College Days
by Yukiko-neechan
Summary: Yamato and Taichi gravitate around each other, never quite managing to meet. Tension, and drama, and eventually... more. Yaoi in later chapters, please review. Ch 1 repost, Ch 2 new!
1. one

Yamato was turning 21. /Fuck./ he thought to himself.

He was told by his father, just before he moved out of the house, in the typical Ishida Hiraoki candid way that he had when telling his son some life secret, that college were supposed to be the best years of his life. Hiraoki was no doubt reminiscing in his own mind about his own experiences in college when he said that, the countless available female bodies, the random experimentation with drugs with no real consequences, not like when there was a family to support. This was what Yamato surmised, anyway, as he drove off to live the best years of his life.

Except that none of that happened.

He was still in his ultra-popular band, the Teenage Wolves, and there were still girls (AND boys) throwing themselves (AND drugs) at him left and right. But somehow, living with his athletic and straight-laced best friend of five years, none of that shit appealed to him. Taichi would say that why did they need drugs when they had plenty of better things to do with their time, like playing video games and beating up on each other for fun. And Taichi would criticize every single girl that Yamato would bring home with "Shallow bitch" or "Fucking loose cunt", and eventually, he came to take it for granted that Yamato would drop them as soon as he uttered the words because, well, it was true.

Yamato didn't think much of it, because best friends looked out for each other naturally when it came to this stuff, gold-digging whores and the like. Except lately, he's been noticing that Tai hasn't been sleeping around quite as randomly, that he's consistently brought home the same chick five times in a row, and they did not have a tried-and-true protocol for this.

If he were completely fucking frank with himself, he would say the girl grated on his nerves til they were about to snap. Her voice, sickeningly sweet, sometimes floated from Taichi's half-closed door, asking for this or asking for that, a drink or a warm bath. And Tai, the big fucking idiot, does it with a smile on his face. And once or twice, Yamato was sure that sweet voice was raised to fever pitch, moaning and squealing in ecstacy behind walls that were seriously lacking in insulation, as Yamato was beginning to realize.

Yamato was a good sport about it, though. He didn't say a word about it to Tai, and hung out with his best friend only when the soccer player made time for him outside of his little fling and playdates. But as his birthday neared, Yamato was seriously beginning to get pissed off.

The band had started to plan some secret birthday bash for him, for his 21st, which was all sweet and all except... except that Taichi had ALWAYS been the first one to gush about his birthday. His roommate would always, every single year, plan some crazy party of mayhem at their dorm. Of course, Yamato had always moaned and groaned about it, how embarrassing it was to be fussed over like a fucking kid. But this year, not a fucking peep, and Yamato began to realize how fake his own complaints were.

So on this particular day, the day of his 21st birthday, Yamato was beginning to acknowledge the nugget of truth inside his gut that he identified as the tiny hope that Taichi was learning to keep secrets, and that the party had finally succeeded to be the SURPRISE birthday party he had always claimed.

He had had a shitty day at practice. The Teenage Wolves had finally managed to sign on with a small label, and their new managers refused to let them go early and worked them to the bone. His new song was getting shredded to pieces, due to all these censors that the label were slapping them with. This was pretty much going o turn out to be a shitty year, and all he wanted was to go the fuck home, and hopefully Taichi would be there, and they could play some video games at the very least, if there was going to be no party.

What he did find when he got home, however, was a naked-from-the-waist-up Taichi and the chick-of-five-dates in a similar state of undress sprawled out on his couch in the living room, sound asleep.

He dropped his guitar case for the first time in his life, unheeded onto the hardwood floors, and had a second to catch Taichi's startled look upon waking before he turned around and stormed out of the apartment. Taichi found him on a lower landing on the fire escape a second later, smoking a cigarette.

"Hey, dude. What's up." Tai cracked a small smile.

Yamato's voice came out a bit dazed, when it finally decided to work. "I wanted to play some fucking Nintendo, which is hard to do when your best friend has some chick with an undiscriminating cunt wrapped naked around him on your couch."

A shrug. "She had boxers on."

And it's at this point that Yamato vaguely registered the scene from a second ago, and his head just fucking explodes. "Wait... MY boxers??"

Nod.

"Well, FUCK ME, Tai!"

"What? What's the big deal? I thought you'd be happy to have some chick-stained underwear. You said it was hot!"

Blink. Open mouthed stare.

A beat passes, and Yamato's sure that he's starting to hear the chick wake up and walk around inside. Like he gave a fuck. "You fucking idiot jock." He didn't know why he was so pissed off, just that he had expected to have his best friend to himself for ONE DAY, for his birthday, and he didn't get it. This, for some reason, incensed him beyond belief.

Then the blond saw a look ripple through Taichi's eyes, like some knowledge finally lighting up the inner recesses of his unused brain. "FUCK! It's your birthday!" He dragged both hands through his chocolate mane, frustratedly. And again, "FUCK!"

"No shit, you pussy-whipped bitch!"

"Look, fuck, man. I'm soooooo sorry..." Taichi trailed off, running his hands through his hair agitatedly some more, not knowing what else he could say. His big chocolate eyes pleaded with Yamato to give him mercy, while he knew there were no excuses.

This seemed to deflate Yamato's anger, though. The blond exhaled sharply, the sound evolving into a chuckle, and said, "You fucking idiot jock." But this time sounded more affectionate.

Taichi didn't know what he did right, and was only glad that he apparently DID do something right, because he fucking HATED when Yamato was mad at him. So he smiled and said, "Okay, moody bitch. Let's play some fucking Nintendo."

Yamato hesitated a bit. "What about her?"

Taichi said, "Fuck her."

And a real smile spread over Yamato's face for the first time since he'd turned 21. Maybe this year wouldn't turn out to be so bad.

Author's Note: A good chunk of this interaction is inspired by a scene from Kevin Smith's movie Chasing Amy. The homoerotic subtext between two best friends, Banky and Holden, as Holden is beginning a very hetero relationship with a self-identified lesbian. Watch the movie if you haven't. It's genius. 


	2. two

It was a Friday night, and one of Taichi's beefy dumb teammates had invited them to some crazy drunkfest. Usually Yamato didn't go to these things, because it just meant having a billion slobbering girls hanging all over him. But by some miracle from god, Taichi convinced him. Well... more like by an offer to do Yamato's laundry.

"I sooooooo need to get laiiiiid. Please, for the love of god! Please!" Yamato personally thought this was the dumbest argument Taichi could've used, because it's not like Taichi getting some pussy would convince him to go, or even that Taichi getting some pussy required that he attend the party at all. But Yamato gave in all the same. 'Cause sometimes he did that, if Taichi looked at him the right way.

So now he found himself sandwiched between a blonde and a redhead, each rubbing a hand thoughtlessly up and down the inside of his thighs. They were probably so drunk that they wouldn't notice if he left and proceed to fuck each other instead. Yamato would gladly give them the opportunity.

He got up and scanned the room for the huge birdnest of brown hair that belonged to his best friend, and spotted it swaying close to the makeshift bar that had been set up. He made a beeline for it, to see if it was still even remotely sober.

"Yama!" Taichi's half-lidded eyes lit up when they saw Yamato walking towards him in that sauntering way that he had.

"Hey, lightweight," the blonde greeted with a half-smile, "Any action yet?"

"Fuck, no, man! I'm pretty sure half these chicks have the clap anyway!" And just as he said this, a bit too loudly, a girl Yamato had noticed him talking to earlier during the party appeared at his side. Her face took on an appalled look for a second, before she burst out into inebriated laughter, clinging to his side a bit before dragging him away into the crowd.

Yamato remained where he stood for a second, thinking everybody was way too drunk at this party, and that he had never seen Tai this drunk before, and then deciding that /Fuck it. Might as well get fucked. At least then I'll be having some fun. Tai sure is./

He started to make his way outside, to where the pool and drunk naked people were, but before he could open the sliding glass doors that led outside, a tanned and decidedly muscled bicep appeared in his line of sight and blocked his way. Yamato turned, expecting trouble, only to find a white-teethed smile set in a stubbled face that looked friendly if somewhat dim-witted--one of Tai's jock teammates, Yamato's mind supplied. Surprisingly, there was no instant repulsion, as Yamato usually had with these beefy jock-types, or at least anyone with an IQ under 50.

The other was holding out a drink to Yamato, with an openly inviting look in his eyes. "You're Tai's friend, right?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?" Yamato took the drink, and swallowed a sip.

"I see you sometimes waiting for him after practice." Yamato thought he saw a strange implication swimming in the other boy's eyes as he said this, but couldn't quite grasp what it meant. Before he could figure it out, the other held out his hand and said, "Akio Yamaguchi."

Yamato took it. "Yamato," and after a pause, "Ishida."

Akio cracked another toothpaste-ad-worthy smile at this and, without letting Yamato's hand go, turned to slide open the patio doors. "Let's go for a swim."

Yamato was unsurprised later to find that this was just an excuse to get him half-naked and wet and to grope him secretively under the water. The first time it happened, Yamato was relieved to find Akio trying to pretend that it was just a slip of the hand, because this way, he could allow it and pretend that he hadn't noticed anything. As other people became less observant of them and more absorbed in their own underwater activities, the touches became bolder and lingered longer, until Akio's front was pressed flush up again Yamato's backside, the semi-hard erection wedged between his asscheeks like a hotdog sausage. Yamato was near the poolside, in front of a water jet, and the combined effect of the rushing water creating friction again his cock and the thrill of a hot--/male/--body at his back made him impatient.

By this point, his courage consisted of something like upwards of 10 beers, so Yamato grabbed Akio and exited the pool. His head was spinning and the one coherent thought that ran through his mind was that he had never been with a man before. It was both exciting and terrifying at the same time, and all of a sudden Yamato was pretty sure that all that managed to make him feel like was puking. He didn't, though, and together, he and Akio managed to stumble inside and up the stairs to find a somewhat deserted room to fool around in.

What Yamato was not expecting, however, was that halfway up the stairs, his eyes locked onto Taichi's chocolate brown eyes. It was just for a second, and then he felt his own slide away in something between shame and taunting.

He continued his way up the stairs with Akio.

Author's Note: Sorry for the short chapter. The next one will be longer, I promise. 


End file.
